A genius student? Ha, they're nothing but ants at your feet!

Chapter 183 The Taste of Mathematics

Stepping out of the building, a gust of cold, strong wind, carrying the chill of winter, hit me hard in the face.

Instead of dodging, Su Hao closed his eyes comfortably, letting the raging wind lash his body.

The coolness helped to calm the turbulent thoughts that had been surging in my mind.

As you walk slowly along the long path, a huge bluish-gray stone wall comes into view.

The walls are covered with mottled marks left by wind and frost, exuding an indescribable sense of profound vicissitude.

This university has been established for over 150 years, and the building in front of us must be about the same age, like a silent giant looking down on the mortals who come and go.

"Squeak—"

Pushing open that heavy door, a highly recognizable and familiar aura rushed towards me.

It was the astringent smell of chalk dust suspended in the air, the dried glue smell of eraser shavings, the musty scent of old wooden floors, and...

The bitter taste of espresso that students frantically gulp down like water for all the problems they've solved by staying up all night to tackle.

These scents, like molecules diffusing, have already seeped deep into every crevice of the entire space.

Instead of covering his nose, Su Hao took a deep, intoxicating breath, just like an addict.

"Ah—it smells like mathematics!"

It's a slightly aloof, academically-driven atmosphere that can instantly force any academic underachiever to kneel down and concentrate fully.

And this is Building No. 2, the mathematics department, where Su Hao will be stationed for a long time and spend many years there.

Unlike other departments that display flashy exhibits that practically plaster the walls with the honors of alumni, the corridors of the mathematics building are all about "hardcore" exhibits.

There are no cabinets of honor on the walls; instead, there are math problems left behind by professors and students in a frenzy.

The wall was covered with dense chalk writing, formulas, and derivation diagrams, like vines spreading across it.

Su Hao raised an eyebrow: "The atmosphere here is completely different from that of the physics department."

Walking along the corridor with its almost infinitely long blackboard, the scale and the sense of oppression were completely different from what he had seen in the physics department.

The blackboard in the physics department is at best a piece of scratch paper, but here, it's practically a training ground for Ragnarok.

With his hands in his pockets, Su Hao scanned the wall like a scanner, secretly speculating that this area might be a discussion zone for applied mathematics.

In the chaotic sea before him, woven from a complex web of numbers and Greek letters, he immediately recognized many familiar computational theories.

Not only that, but looking further ahead, wow, there's even a deep derivation process involving abstract algebra and quantum information theory.

Judging from the several distinct handwriting styles, some wild and cursive, others restrained, there were probably three or four people involved in this chaotic battle.

Many massive proof processes, through relay-like derivations, gradually lead to a perfect closed loop.

And between the lines of these formulas, there are surprisingly some down-to-earth, informal comments typical of academic circles, full of a "Versailles" flavor:

The guy who revised my proof yesterday made a mistake in the derivation! He should check it carefully.

[Those weaklings at Harvard would probably all be scared away if they saw this, right?]

Our math department is pretty crazy, haha. I heard we're getting a super freshman soon?

Are you referring to Su Hao? I've also read his paper on the Four Color Theorem; it's truly groundbreaking.

As a senior member of the math department, I should be displaying some authority, but after looking in the mirror, I really lack the confidence. Who can take my place?

What's the rush? There's no need. Given the sheer volume and difficulty of this assignment, even the most rebellious freshman will eventually become obedient.

I really want to talk to him. I'm curious if he's made any new substantial progress on the Riemann Hypothesis.

Seeing this, Su Hao touched his nose, pretended not to have seen anything, and continued walking forward.

The scene changed abruptly when we reached the middle of the corridor.

A huge transparent glass display case, like a reliquary, is embedded in the wall, displaying a variety of dazzling geometric models.

The Klein bottle, which has no distinction between inside and outside; the Möbius strip, which always has only one side; the Riemann surface, which infinitely folds complex planes; and the toroidal structure, which is perfectly self-consistent like a donut...

These endlessly extending, intersecting, and perfectly closed surfaces are all top-level works of art forged with the purest and most exquisite geometric language.

Finally, we arrived at the end of the corridor.

A slogan made of gleaming metal type, firmly embedded in the wall, suddenly caught the eye.

Su Hao recognized it at a glance; it was a famous quote left by the great master Galileo after gazing at the starry sky.

Mathematics is the language of God's creation of the universe.

Standing before this sentence, a profound sense of timelessness washes over you.

From the time of Pythagoras, who wore straw sandals and drew circles on the ground, to today's modern era of spaceships taking to the skies.

Mathematics has always been the oldest language that humankind has painstakingly built to understand this chaotic world.

This language, which originated from rudimentary diagrams drawn on ancient sand, is now recording the trajectories of the vast cosmos with unparalleled precision, explaining the topological structure of the universe, and even measuring the passage of time...

With a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, Su Hao suddenly realized that time was of the essence.

He shook his head gently, casting aside these troubling thoughts without a second thought, and quickened his pace.

Turn at the far corner of the corridor, and you'll reach your destination.

This is the most secluded, sunless corner of the mathematics department building, where a display screen stands in front of the entrance.

As soon as Su Hao touched it, the screen suddenly started flickering erratically, and then automatically played a well-made cutscene.

Accompanied by eerie, suspenseful background music that even has a Hollywood blockbuster feel, a hacker wearing a black hood suddenly appears on screen.

"You've finally arrived, 001! Actually, this soup needs one more key secret ingredient!"

Can you ask me what the ingredients are?

Looking at these ridiculously cheesy lines, Su Hao barely managed to suppress his laughter.

These highly intelligent hackers clearly possess remarkable acting talent; it would be a waste of their abilities if they didn't go to Hollywood to play villains.

Since the other party had such a strong desire to act, Su Hao very cooperatively played the straight man:

"So, may I ask what the ingredients are?"

"—It's you, hehehe!"

As soon as the words were spoken, accompanied by an extremely exciting transition sound effect, several lines of large text burst onto the screen—

[Final Level - Should you rescue the "Beaver"?]

【whether】

Su Hao finally couldn't help but chuckle.

His finger had just lifted, about to press the "yes" button to confirm, but it stopped abruptly just two centimeters from the screen.